


Seven and Deadly

by 1cbear7



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Seven Deadly Sins, Slice of Life, idk where i'm gonna take this tbh, no romance. no
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-15 18:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14795961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1cbear7/pseuds/1cbear7
Summary: Kiku Honda moves into a new home like a normal fucking human being. Whoop dee doo. Then he hears the voices.





	1. here we go i guess

Things were looking up for Kiku. He had a decent job and was moving into a nice apartment building. He didn’t have many friends back home, so maybe this was a new beginning in that sense.

 

He stepped into the lobby of the building. A bit nervous, he pressed the “up” button on the elevator. It took a few minutes of awkward standing around for the doors to finally open. The movers didn’t seem to mind.

 

The shaft was a bit cramped with all the boxes and people, but elevator rides usually aren’t long to begin with anyways.

 

You might have noticed that Kiku appears to be quite the optimist. The idea of seizing one’s problems and looking on the bright side isn’t one many can comprehend, and yet he does it anyways.

 

Kiku doesn’t believe in ghosts, magic, or aliens. It’s all kind of bullshit to him. Whether this is a good thing or not has eternally been up for grabs.

 

The display at the top of the wall stopped at 13 and let out a little ding. Wait, weren’t apartments supposed to skip that floor? Something about bad luck… Eh. Who cares. It’s just a schtick the Christians made up to discourage the Norse people’s belief in Freyja.

 

They stepped out and into the hallway and walked down the aisle, reaching the fourth door on the eastern wall.

 

It took about five minutes for every box to be set into the room. A terribly short five minutes, how nice. Kiku at long last experienced time to himself, which he appreciated. Living with noisy roommates wasn’t very fun.

 

He pulled out his sheets and covers, draping them over the bed that had taken a whole other elevator to bring up. The rest of his furniture would come tomorrow morning, but for now, his new home was fairly empty.

 

It was late. Kiku plugged in his phone which had gotten dangerously low. His gaze drifted towards the huge box with all his clothes. He desperately didn’t want to rummage through all of that for just his pajamas… The procrastinator in him won over, and he fell asleep right there in his sweater and sweatpants. Nice going, that’ll smell SO great tomorrow.

 

His dream was bizarre. Seven figures stood, regarding him with dull eyes. Most of them were white men with blonde hair, slightly varying in color. In addition stood a Mediterranean and an Asian. Why their races mattered? They didn’t. It was purely one of the only things he could observe. All of them had wildly different builds and personalities- the latter he could merely tell by their stance. They didn’t move for what felt like hours.

 

Finally, at the end of the night, one with green eyes (which had now gone vivid) and bushy eyebrows looked at Kiku with annoyance or possibly anger. He crossed his arms and said in the most disgusted tone, “Now who the fuck is _this_ twat?!”

 

* * *

 

Kiku woke with a start. He was sweating more than usual. What was that? Where did he see those people before? His brain can’t just make up faces… Right?

 

The young man sighed at his clothes as he walked past them, pulling a mug from the box labeled DISHES. He reached out into another box and grabbed a teabag. Yes. Tea.

 

He plopped the bag in the cup and stepped over to the sink, which conveniently had a boiling water tab. Hell yes. Tea.

 

As he waited for the water to cool a bit, Kiku nabbed his earbuds and cell phone from the wall by his bed. A quick swipe or two and good music was already ringing in his ears. He stepped back to his drink, which had turned a brownish golden tone. Hell fucking yes. Tea.

 

He sipped it lightly, so he didn’t burn his tongue. He was leaning against the counter. How long had it been since he had relaxed like this? A day or two, but it felt like forever. Anyways:

 

Hell.

 

Fucking.

 

Yes.

 

Tea.

 

The music was a little loud, but Kiku didn’t care. It was a lovely song.

 

Suddenly, a voice rang out in his head. A British accent was prominent, much like the one from last night… _The doorbell rang, idiot! Get your shit together and answer it! Don’t you have chairs coming?!_ What? He jerked his head. What? What the fuck? He set his drink down and pulled out the left earbud. The doorbell rang twice. What in the fuck just happened.

 

Kiku crossed the reasonable distance to the front of his apartment and unlocked the door swiftly. Sure enough, the furniture was here. Hooooly fuck.

 

A quick conversation and about an hour later, his chairs and tables and couch (singular!) had been put in place. _I almost forgot about the voice,_ he thought to himself as he cleaned his now empty cup of tea.

 

 _I sure hope you didn’t!_ It replied angrily. _I hate it when people do that._

 

Hold on, what the fuck?

 


	2. oh wtf

Kiku’s eyes suddenly go wide. He barely saved his mug from shattering as his grip faltered. What in the world?!  _ What..? _

 

_ You heard me! I don’t like it when people forget me!  _ The frustrated British voice came again. Kiku’s heart began to race. He looked around for an intruder, but no luck.  _ You can’t see me, idiot. _

 

Kiku stumbled into the living room, aiming for his couch. He sat shakily, not knowing what to do. He wasn’t a schizo, right? He’d been mentally stable his whole life…

 

The Japanese man breathed heavily, his fingers clenching and unclenching area of his sweater over his heart. This reminded him that he needed to change and freshen up. 

 

…

 

_ Hello? _

 

No reply. 

Maybe it was just some kind of stress that made that happen. He would be okay.

 

Kiku went into the bathroom, trying to figure out how the shower worked before he started unpacking his soap and shampoo. He showered and changed quickly. That was better. 

 

The day was relatively typical. He spent most of his time unpacking, trying to get it all over with in one fatal blow. However, the thought of that voice plagued his mind. God, what was that?! It scared him.

 

That night, Kiku slept hard. He hoped to get over the mess from the morning, but unfortunately, he fell into another terrible dream. 

 

This time, each man was dressed in black. Some had tails and slitted pupils. It was so confusing- where even were they? It wasn’t infinite void or endless white, it was solely… nothing. As if he couldn’t see at all. As if the only things that existed were them. 

 

He distinguished the one with emerald eyes who had called him a twat. He wasn’t looking at Kiku. Strange. The others, dull and lifeless as usual, but he? Anxiously tapping his foot, huge eyebrows twitching, arms crossed… he was loaded with emotion. 

 

Kiku nudged him on the shoulder and he immediately whipped around, hissy faced. “What do you want?!” he snarled, slapping his hand away.

 

“...” his breath hitched. That was definitely the same voice. “Y-you!” his hand trembled. “You’re the one who yelled at me this morning..!”

 

The slightly taller man rolled his eyes. “No shit, Sherlock. Any other brilliant observations?” Jeez, this guy had an attitude. Kiku noticed the green aura around the Englishman- what was his brain trying to tell him? Sigh. 

 

He awkwardly shuffled away from the dream, once again waking up in a cold sweat. 

 

* * *

 

 

An overwhelming fear settled in the air. What in the world? Had Kiku been… wrong? About life? There’s no way that that demon could be real! He racked his brain for answers, but nothing. 

 

_ Is it possible I should see a thera- _ his mind started questioning.

 

_ No! Don't do that!  _ A new voice with a heavy German accent rattled his skull. He sounded even more pissed than the British one. 

 

_ Lucky prick. He has the opportunity for help. Just let it go.  _ The familiar one was back.

 

Kiku felt woozy. He decided he would ask for another two days off from work. To A) unpack and B) recoup from whatever the fuck  _ that _ was. 

 

Over the next few days, the voices came and went. Every few minutes after he got home, he was barraged by arguing and strange accents. All this conversation and not a single one would tell him what was happening! It was as annoying as it was terrifying.

 

During the night, less and less of the demons appeared. Every night a new one came to life, and the next it would be gone. 

 

After a week, Kiki had figured out that it wasn't his mind or his dreams. But he didn't believe in magic, right?  **_RIGHT???_ **

 

That’s what he had thought. 

 

But really, what was it that continued to plague his mind with conversations? Was it some kind of… microchip? ...No, that’s far fetched as hell. 

 

It was beginning to drive him a little crazy. He found himself exhausted on casual days, wondering if it was from a lack of sleep. Unable to fall asleep, Kiku lay in bed, humming tunes without care. When he did succumb to rest, he would fall into a nightmare. 

 

He began to notice how little sounds like a spoon dropping or ice being made in his fridge pissing him off. At work, he would tap his pen on his desk as a tired/stressed/nervous tic and then get mad at the sound after five minutes and nearly throw it across the room. However, he had enough self-restraint to hold himself back.

 

He wanted to crush the voices out. For some reason, he listened to them. Therapy was not an option. He followed their simple instructions. It was dreadful.

 

One day, it was completely silent. Kiku was changing into his pajamas when a voice cut the air like a knife.

 

_ So, I’m getting the feeling you don’t really like what’s going on, Kiku. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my motivation to write this is at like 0.0001% arghhgh


	3. oops i forgot to post this yesterday

Kiku stopped, starry eyed. The voice felt soft, possibly wiser. “Yes, YES! Could you tell me, please?” 

 

_ I can’t tell you… everything. However, I’ll probably explain it better than the rest, _ the voice gloated.  _ My name is Pride. _

 

The young man breathed a sigh of relief. Someone was finally telling him something, anything! It was a dream come true, literally. “Pride? Is… Is that really a name?” A ‘tch’ came from the other end of the conversation. 

 

_ Of course it is! And it’s a  _ **_good_ ** _ name, dammit!  _ Yeesh. No need to flip out over it.  _ Actually, my name is Zìháo, but none of the dumbasses here can say it properly. Stick to Pride.  _ Kiku would have stared at him if he had been corporeal. 

 

“But… doesn’t zihao mean pride in Chinese?” Kiku recalled fucking around on Google Translate. Not that it was always correct, but he trusted it more than he should’ve. 

 

_ YOU’RE SAYING IT WRONG, STUPID CHILD!  _ He flinched. Even though volume couldn’t change in one’s head, it still startled him.  _ Just speak English, shithead. _

 

“Okay, excuse me? That was uncalled for.” Kiku had figured out that this guy could have a snappy side. However, that was taking it a little far. “I don’t appreciate that.” Though he rarely stood up for himself, surely he could talk down the voice in his head?

 

Kiku swore the voice rolled its eyes at him. Did it even have eyes? He barely got a word with it the night he woke. The comment made him uncomfortable. He didn’t recall ever being insulted out of the blue for making a mistake… it was strange. 

 

“So. What are you?” He finally said. It was his biggest question. Hopefully, Pride wouldn't be so mean this time around. 

 

_ A demon of sorts, I guess.  _ Oh, that had to be a lie. There was no such thing! 

 

“I don’t believe you,” he said flatly. Pride made a sound of offense (probably… it was a strange sound, to be fair). “Monsters and magic don’t exist.” Kiku fiddled with his thumbs, trying to think of any other possibilities other than schizophrenia… none to his knowledge.

 

_ You better, young man, otherwise you’re going to wind up confused as all hell.  _ Kiku shook his head. No, no, no, NO.

 

His apartment curtains we closed, he was half dressed, and his desk lamp’s glow was beginning to piss him off. Kiku stood, pulling a nicer shirt from his dresser. He had hours of night to burn. No way he was staying with this asshole for that long.  _ What are you doing? It’s late! _

“Exactly,” he says, walking towards his door. Kiku grabbed a good jacket and a scarf. His nicer shoes were sitting there. Kiku slipped them on and nabbed his phone and wallet. “I’m going out for a drink.”

 

_ What? I didn’t think you’re the kind of person who does that… _

 

“Well, you don’t know anything, apparently.” Kiku left his home. Finally, the voices were gone for now! They never spoke outside of his apartment.

 

The elevator climbed down slowly. He stepped out into the bright city, watching his breath appear in the cool air. He was going to have fun, dammit, alone or not. 

 

Alone, as it turns out. Maybe that was for the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof

**Author's Note:**

> oHHHh shit meow meow. this won't have a super plot heavy story. no one will die. its just slice of life i guess


End file.
